


Chance Met

by babyfacebutch



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Harry Potter, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Protective Dean Winchester, Season/Series 04, Shameless Smut, Top Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2018-11-06 04:29:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 19,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11028666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babyfacebutch/pseuds/babyfacebutch
Summary: Dean runs into an intriguing man in a bar in South Dakota while trying to outrun his nightmares of Hell.Harry needs to get away from the pressures of Wizarding England, and finds himself in bed with Dean after a chance meeting in a bar.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I'm posting on A03! As a warning, the first chapter is pretty much all smut. The story will eventually have some plot though! Also, all editing mistakes are my own (and if you see something you want to point out, feel free to leave me a comment).
> 
> I'm reposting the first few chapters with some minor edits.   
> Thanks nikkikoala90 for being my beta reader!

**Chance Met**

**Chapter One**

Dean sinks lower on his stool, taking a sip of his beer and looking around the dim room. He's holed up in a bar near Bobby’s place, having snuck away from Bobby and Sam for the night. He's tired of hiding his nightmares from them. His time in Hell had made him twitchy, and he just wants to sit and drink and ignore all his responsibilities for a night. Sam was acting weird, and he and Bobby were watching Dean like a hawk. Add in Castiel showing up and claiming to be an angel of the lord, and Dean is more than ready for a break.

After a couple hours of brooding and drinking, the door to the bar opens and a man about his age steps in. He is a little shorter than Dean, and he looks like he could use some good meals. In spite of this, he holds himself with a kind of banked awareness that screams competence. He sweeps his gaze around the bar, relaxing a little at the empty state of the room, before his eyes catch on Dean. They lock gazes for a minute, before the man looks away and steps up to the bar.

Dean stares for a moment longer before looking back down to his own drink. There was something about the other man that intrigued. For all that he looked like trouble, there was a weariness in his stance that reminded Dean of himself lately. Sighing, he swallows the last of his whiskey and sets the glass down heavily. He jumps when a hand brushes his shoulder lightly, and he twists around to look up into the face of the other man, leaning toward him with a slight smile.

“You look like you could use another, and perhaps some company. Mind if I sit here?” he gestures to the stool next to Dean.

Dean scrutinizes him for a moment before nodding. He has shaggy black hair that hangs almost to his shoulders, and his eyes are a brilliant green. He wears a battered leather jacket much like Dean’s own, and carries himself with a coiled tension that speaks of violence in his past. He settles on the stool and signals the bartender to bring them drinks, then turns to Dean.

“I’m Harry,” he says, smiling and looking Dean up and down appreciatively.

“Dean” he says, offering up his own smile. He isn't usually interested in men, but damn. This Harry is hot, and looks strong enough give as good as he gets. Maybe this is just the thing to get rid of some of his loose energy.

Both men sip quietly at their whiskey for a moment, a comfortable silence surrounding them.

“I’ve got a room at the motel down the road if you’re interested,” Harry speaks quietly.

Dean glances over sharply, wondering for a moment if he can risk leaving with what amounted to a complete stranger, and one who, judging by his accent, isn’t from around here. With a mental shrug, he nods and moves to stand, throwing back his drink and tugging on his jacket. He walks toward the door, Harry trailing after him.

Once outside, Dean pulls out his flask, offering Harry his holy water while keeping his other hand cautiously hovering near where his gun is hidden. Harry gives him a puzzled frown, but takes the flask from him. He sniffs cautiously, raising an eyebrow questioningly at Dean.

Dean smiles tightly, snagging the flask and taking a swig himself before passing it back.

“Just take a sip, alright?”

Harry stares curiously for another moment before shrugging and taking a tentative sip before tightening the cap and passing it back to Dean.

At the lack of reaction, both to the silver of the flask and the holy water within, Dean grins, steering Harry toward the impala.

“Want a ride to this motel of yours?”

“Yeah that’d be great. Left my bike there.”

The motel is just a few blocks away, and Dean can feel the anticipation mounting between them. Harry reaches over, casually walking his fingers up and down Dean’s leg. Dean swings into the motel lot, and Harry leads him over to his room, unlocking the door and flicking on the bedside light, giving the room a soft glow.

Closing the door softly, Dean stalks forward until he is looming over Harry. Harry cocks an eyebrow in challenge, and Dean reaches out and threads a hand through Harry’s hair, tugging him into a harsh kiss. With his other hand, he pulls the shorter man flush against him, resting his palm against Harry’s lower back. Harry’s arms come up to wrap around Dean’s hips, pulling him closer while his mouth opens on a moan. Slowly walking Harry back toward a bed, Dean slips his tongue between Harry’s lips, mapping out his mouth and twining their tongues together.

Harry topples back onto his bed, pulling Dean with him so he is resting snug in the vee of his legs. Wrapping his legs around Dean’s, he undulates his hips, turning Dean’s breath ragged as he thrusts back involuntarily. God, but Harry is driving him wild.

Dean pulls back when he feels Harry scrabbling at his shirt, trying to pull it over his head. He yanks his shirt off and tosses it aside, then quickly divests Harry of his. At that he pauses, taking in the muscled chest under him, arms and chest dotted with scars that showed a life not lived quietly. Around the smaller man’s hips curl a sleeping dragon, head laid out along the seam of his jeans and torso wrapping around to Harry’s back. The tail curls snugly against the other hip. Harry jerks him out of his contemplation by reaching a hand up to brush against the handprint burned into his shoulder. The gentle way Harry traces the unusual burn sends an inexplicable shiver down Dean’s spine, and he reaches out and pets one of Harry’s nipples with a thumb, gratified at the way Harry’s attention snaps back to the moment at hand. Harry’s hands fall back to the bed to rest beside his head, almost as if in surrender. Taking this as a cue, Dean reaches out and grasps Harry’s wrists, pulling them above his head and leaning down to nuzzle at his neck, licking and nipping his way to Harry’s ear.

“Are you going to be good for me, Harry?”

At this, Harry’s breath hitches, and he melts back into the mattress. He turns his face, scraping his cheek along Dean's stubble. Harry rolls his hips against Dean's, and when Dean pulls back, Harry smirks up at him.

“Are you sure you want me to be good, Dean?” Harry purrs.

Cursing at the added friction, Dean grinds down once, hard, then clambers off the bed, tugging off his shoes, jeans and boxers while keeping an eye on Harry. Harry takes this as his cue to do the same, sitting up and pulling off his boots, then wiggling out of his own jeans in a sinuous move that has Dean's mouth going dry.

Dean crawls back on top of Harry, placing hands to either side of Harry’s head and placing biting kisses up his neck, inhaling the heady scent of leather and sweat that clings to the other man. He licks along Harry’s jaw until he reaches his mouth again, melding their lips together and dancing his tongue into the hot mouth below his. Reaching down to caress Harry’s side, he slides lower on the bed, licking and sucking his way down his chest until he reaches a nipple. Sucking the other man’s nipple into his mouth, he bites down sharply, soothing the sting with his tongue. He is gratified to hear Harry moan and pant beneath him at the rough treatment, and digs his hand into the muscled hip. For a moment Dean thinks he feels movement below him where the dragon’s tail is tattooed, but he quickly disregards the thought in favor of licking his way down the taut stomach. Nudging at Harry’s hip with his nose, he bites at the juncture between hip and groin, sucking up a vivid red mark. Harry’s hips buck in response, and Dean grasps the hips firmly, preventing further movement.

By this time, Harry is panting, and his hands have migrated into Dean's hair, tugging and running blunt nails along Dean's scalp. When Dean looks up he sees he is being watched, Harry’s eyes wide and desperate. Licking a stripe up the inside of Harry’s hipbone, he murmurs into his skin,

“You’re being so good for me Harry, so fuckin' hot all laid out for me.”

Before Harry can respond, Dean kisses the head of Harry’s cock before engulfing it in wet heat, swirling his tongue around the underside of the shaft and sucking hard. Harry cries out sharply and goes rigid, fighting his body in order to stay still. His hips jerk in Dean’s hands before Harry regains control.

Dean redoubles his efforts, licking and sucking with enthusiasm. It has been a while since he slept with another man, and he is surprised at how much he missed this. Dean pulls off of Harry's cock, giving the head a swirling lick and pumping the shaft in his hand.

“Oh gods, please I…please. I want. I can’t. I want you inside me. Please, I need…” Harry cries out, struggling not to come under the sudden onslaught.

Dean dips down and gives a final hard suck, accompanied by a squeeze at the base of his cock, drawing a keening moan from Harry before pulling off of Harry’s cock.

“Lube?” Dean rasps hoarsely.

Harry turns, scrabbling at a bag beside the bed, pulling out a bottle of lube and a box of condoms and tossing them to Dean. Catching both, Dean wastes little time slicking his fingers up, running one along Harry's cleft and nudging his hole gently.

Harry lets out a broken moan and Dean grins up at him before sliding one finger inside him, working it in and tugging teasingly at Harry's rim. He swiftly moves up to two, then three fingers, searching out the slighter man's prostate and rubbing persistently while Harry writhes and whimpers under him. Harry reaches down and grasps Dean’s shoulders, urging him up. Dean lets him, easing his fingers out and fumbling on a condom, slicking his cock with more lube and lining the head up with Harry’s hole.

He slowly eases into Harry, leaning down and engaging him in a passionate kiss, swallowing the moans making their way up Harry’s throat as his cock slips past the ring of muscle at Harry’s entrance and slides all the way in until Dean's cock is enveloped in the tight heat of Harry's body. Harry wraps his legs around Dean’s waist and bucks, seating him more firmly inside. Dean pants, holding still until he can regain some control. He eases back until he is barely inside Harry before slamming home again, setting up a punishing pace. Harry scrabbles at his back, tightening his legs around Dean and rocking into each thrust. Dean quickly loses himself in the rhythm, panting into Harry’s neck. He can already feel his climax building, and he wants to bring the other man with him. He changes the angle of his thrusts until he has Harry crying out at every hard shove into his body, then leans in and whispers hoarsely into Harry’s ear,

“Touch yourself. I want to see you come.”

Harry wastes no time, slipping a hand between them and jacking himself harshly. All it takes is a few pulls before Harry is shuddering and coming and slumping boneless into the mattress. The sight of the debauched man beneath him combined with the tightening muscles around Dean had him following Harry after a half dozen more hard thrusts, and Dean crumples, resting his full weight on Harry before regaining enough sense to roll to the side, panting and sated. He looked over at Harry to see his eyes closed and a satisfied smile painted on his lips.

Grunting, Dean staggers up and over to the bathroom, getting rid of the condom and wiping himself off with a warm washcloth before bringing another out to Harry. Smiling languorously, Harry wipes halfheartedly at his chest before crawling under the covers and holding them out for Dean. Slipping into bed, Dean pulls Harry’s body into his, curling around the smaller man before falling asleep almost instantly.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading my story! I know I started on strong with the smut, but there is actual plot in this story. The chapters will be pretty small, but I'm going to try to update a few at a time. Feel free to shoot me a comment if you've got any suggestions.

**Chapter Two**

Dean sits bolt upright, choking down a scream and staring around frantically. It takes him a moment to remember where he is, and he sags back, his breath slowly evening out. He wonders if he will ever escape his time in Hell. The torment of the rack is something he will always remember, but it is the torture he doled out that weighs most heavily on him. He starts as a hand slides across his chest, glancing over at Harry to see him watching curiously.

“Nightmares?”

Dean sighs, letting himself be pulled into the other man’s embrace. “Yeah. Can’t seem to outrun ‘em.”

Harry hums noncommittally and leans in to nuzzle at Dean’s neck.

“I still get them sometimes. You and I, we’re both fighters. There’s no outrunning that. I may have more scars, but I get the feeling you’ve been through a lot in your life.”

Harry’s fingers wander over Dean’s chest, stroking soothingly before pulling him closer. Dean tries to turn around, opening his mouth to ask about the smaller man’s assertions, but Harry tightens his hold.

“No. No questions tonight. Try to get some more sleep, and we can talk in the morning, okay?”

Dean pauses in his efforts for a moment before moving again, managing to turn and look Harry in the eyes. Though Harry is a near-stranger, all he sees in his eyes is honest sincerity, so he nods slowly and lays back down. He may not want to tell this stranger about what happened to him, but he feels reassured all the same. Laying next to Harry, Dean feels no pressure to put on a good front, as he does with Bobby and Sam. Harry scoots closer and lays his head on Dean’s shoulder, draping a leg over Dean as if to hold him in place. Dean wraps an arm around the other man and closes his eyes. He fades off into sleep much sooner than expected.

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Harry wakes before Dean and slips out of bed, gathering his clothes and heading to the bathroom. He is not particularly looking forward to talking to Dean this morning. He had a great time the night before, but the fact of the matter is, hunters are likely to be prickly when they think they have been lied to. And a prickly hunter is not something Harry wants to deal with, particularly before coffee. Harry honestly considers slipping out before Dean wakes up, if he isn't up already. But odds are, if a hunter is in this town he knows Bobby Singer, and he doesn’t want to run the risk of meeting up with Dean again after skipping out on him.

Harry suspected that Dean was a hunter as soon as he had been asked to drink water out of a flask. After all, how many normal people make their potential bed partners drink water before getting into the car? It must have been holy water. Harry’s suspicions were confirmed when Dean surreptitiously slipped a gun and knife into his boot in the hotel room. He would be more freaked out if he hadn’t read about hunters in Sirius’ journal. He is still feeling pretty wary about being a wizard in the company of a hunter, but he figures he’ll have to get used to that if he wants to find Bobby Singer and get his help learning the lay of the land supernaturally speaking here in America. He just has to hope Bobby remembers Sirius as fondly as Sirius’ journal seems to suggest.

Harry is twenty three, and ready to be away from England, if not for good, then at least for a few years. Fighting for his life for over half his life has left him with a need to do something productive and active. He tried being an Auror for a few years, but the wizarding world wasn’t ready to see its savior jump into danger. Kingsley had put him on desk duty after they had caught all the Death Eaters because whenever he went out he would get mobbed by the public wanting to talk to him or touch him or date him. In the end, he could hardly leave Grimmauld Place without being accosted. And added to that was the stress of knowing that not everyone wanted him around. There were plenty of people who hated him or resented him, even after the war, and would use any moment of weakness to hurt him. No, it would be better for everyone if he stayed away from Wizarding England for a while. Even his friends agreed with him, although Hermione had cried and made him promise to visit often, and Molly Weasley had stuffed his undetectably extended saddlebags with as much food as she could fit.

Harry sighs and gets out of the shower. He really will have to talk to Dean, and he hopes it goes well. He genuinely likes the other man, and it seems that Dean would be a good sort to have on his side. Maybe if this Bobby turns out to be a dead end, Dean could give him a few pointers. If he gets through the next few hours without being shot at.

Stepping out of the bathroom in just his jeans, Harry towels his hair. When he looks up, he meets Dean’s hazel eyes watching him from the bed. Sighing, he pulls out a chair at the little table against the wall and sits.

“Okay. It’s morning, and I promised you a talk. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather have coffee first. So, what do you need to know before we go get coffee?”

Dean blinks at this candid statement, then grins.

“I like your priorities. Hmm, I guess the most important question is, why are you in South Dakota? You’re a long way from home, if I’m not mistaken.”

Harry smiles ruefully. “Yeah, I suppose that’s true. I’m looking to talk to an old friend of my Godfather’s. He lives around here, or at least, he used to. Maybe you know him? Name’s Bobby Singer?”

At this, Dean straightens in the bed and looks at him sharply. His hand twitches like he wanted to reach for his gun.

“You a hunter?” He asks warily.

“Well, not exactly. Let’s just say I’m looking for a career change, and hunting seemed like a good fit.”

Dean barks out a startled laugh.

“Dude, no one becomes a hunter because it’s a ‘good fit’. What the hell was your career before this that hunting seems like a ‘good fit’ anyway?”

Harry looks thoughtful for a moment, before reluctantly saying,

“I was a sort of police officer before this. Or law enforcement at any rate.”

Dean, if possible, looks even more wary at this.

“You’re law enforcement?”

“Why? You in trouble with the law?” Harry says, smirking. Then, more soberly, “I’m not law enforcement anymore, and it wasn’t exactly standard police work anyway. Believe me, you have nothing to worry about on that front.”

Dean squints at him suspiciously. “What do you mean ‘on that front’? I got something to worry about on another front? What, you think you could take me in a fight?” Dean asks incredulously, sweeping a look along Harry's lithe body.

Harry looks amused at the prospect of overpowering Dean.

“Hmm, yes. I’m pretty sure I could ‘take’ you if I had to,” Harry smirks. “But I don’t have to, do I Dean? We’re good? Because coffee is sounding better and better, and from the sounds of it you know Bobby Singer. I was hoping to go see Bobby sometime today. So can we go?”

Dean stares at Harry for a moment longer before nodding slowly and smiling.

“I think I like you. You’re a little crazy, and I’m gonna want to know how you got those kinds of scars in law enforcement, but I like you. Yeah, we can go get coffee. And pie. You like pie?”

Harry snorts. Pie for breakfast? Really? Harry has the feeling Ron would find a kindred spirit in Dean. Maybe that’s why he likes the man so much.

“Alright then,” Harry says. “Let’s go get some coffee. And pie. You know a good place? And then maybe you can point me in the direction of Mr Singer.”

Dean chuckles and says, “Man, first thing you need to know is don't call him Mr Singer. He'll think you're a salesman or a demon, and I'm not sure which he would react worse to.”

Harry shoots him a sharp glance at the demon comment, but then gives a wry chuckle himself.

“Duly noted.”

Dean nods, already up and gathering his clothes. Harry grabs his bag and steps out, turning in his keys at the front desk and then walking over to his bike and checking it over. He’s never too worried about it, since he put subtle anti-theft charms on it. It wouldn’t keep it safe from another wizard, but from muggles it works well enough. Slinging his leg over the bike, he straddles it and grins at Dean, who has stepped out of the room and is watching him with a hungry look in his eyes. Turning the key, the bike roars to life, and Harry revs it a couple times before glancing up at Dean again.

“Well? I’ll follow you, unless you want to hitch a ride with me.” Harry states with a wink and an obvious once-over of Dean’s lean body.

Dean shakes his head and steps to the impala, sliding behind the wheel. The car purrs to life, and they both pull out of the motel lot.

They get breakfast at a tiny diner that serves mediocre coffee and delicious pie. Neither say much at the diner, choosing to focus on caffeine intake. Dean makes sex noises at his pie, and Harry finds himself oddly charmed. After breakfast, Dean tells Harry that he’s staying with Bobby, and Harry can come along if he wants. Dean seems wary again, more protective of Bobby than a mere acquaintance. Harry suspects there’s more history between the two hunters than Dean is letting on, but he just nods and gestures to the entrance of the diner, indicating that Dean should go first.

With one more cautious look, Dean steps out of the diner and over to the impala.

 

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello readers! I'm glad you like my story. I'll try to keep posting chapters as swiftly as I can, but I may be scaling back to once a week or so.

**Chapter Four**

Pulling into a junkyard outside of town behind Dean, Harry looks around curiously. There is a man his age, maybe a little older, on the front porch of a good sized two story house. He has a shotgun held loosely in his hands, but he looks more curious than anything. Dean steps out of the impala and looks at the man on the porch.

“Sammy, this is Harry.  I ran into him in town. He’s looking for Bobby. Says his Godfather was friends with him back in the day. Harry, this is my brother Sam.” Dean adds, gesturing between them.

Sam nods cautiously and looks Harry over. It’s less Dean’s hungry stare and more threat assessment. Apparently he is deemed unthreatening enough that Sam lowers his shotgun, Harry notes with amusement. Quirking a smile, Harry turns and rummages around in his saddlebags, trying not to make it too obvious that they’re bigger than they look.  He had Hermione do an undetectable extension charm on both of them before he left England. His hand closes around Sirius’ journal, and he closes the bag and heads for the porch behind Dean. By this time, an older man who must be Bobby has stepped out on the porch beside Sam. Bobby seems much less willing to dismiss him as a threat, which Harry is faintly reassured by.

Bobby steps forward, staring at Harry intently.

“What do you want with me, boy?” He barks at Harry. “And how did you find this place?”

Harry steps forward slowly, keeping his hands in sight. It would not do to startle these men, even if Dean already likes him.

“Hi. You don’t know me, but you knew my Godfather some years ago.  Before I was born. I’m Harry Potter-Black.  My Godfather was Sirius Black?” Harry flips open the journal in his hands and pulls out a faded muggle picture of Sirius and Bobby standing in front of this same house. He wordlessly passes it over to Bobby, and Sam and Dean lean in curiously. Bobby is only just recognizable as the man before Harry now, the picture being over twenty years old.

Dean glances up at Harry, then back at Bobby.

“How’d you meet some brit, Bobby? Assuming your Godfather is British,” Dean adds, turning to Harry.

Bobby looks up from the picture at Dean, then glances at Harry. 

“Sirius was a hunter. I just knew him for a summer before he went back to England. Said there was a spot of trouble over there, and he had to go protect his friends. I take it the trouble caught up to him?” This last sentence is directed at Harry.

Harry grimaces.  

“Yeah, you could say that.  He spent some twelve years in prison, then escaped to protect me. He was killed around eight years ago by his cousin.” Harry says, then adds under his breath, “The mad bitch.” Dean shoots him an alarmed look, but stays quiet.

Harry wonders if Bobby knows about magic.  Sirius never says so outright in his journal but Harry got the feeling when reading it that Bobby probably knew, and they just didn’t talk about it. The book mostly focuses on various American monsters and how to kill them.

“Erm, how much did you know about my Godfather?” Harry asks warily.

Bobby gives him a sharp look. “Enough. I suspect you take after him? Went to the same school and all?” Bobby glances at the two brothers before looking back at Harry.

Harry nods, relieved. Harry has already suspected that it wouldn’t be a good idea to outright tell hunters that he has magic.  Not without a little lead-up at least. He’s glad Bobby seems to know about magic at least, so he can run interference between Harry and Dean and Sam if it gets out.

Dean clears his throat. “As much as I’m liking this little party on the front porch, maybe we could get this show on the road so we can all go inside?”

Bobby nods and pulls out a flask. He gives Harry an apologetic look before handing it over.  

“Gotta be sure you ain’t some monster before I let you in my house.” Glancing at Dean, Bobby adds, “You got your silver knife, Dean?”

Dean pulls his knife out of his boot and hands it over. After Harry takes a swig of holy water, he passes the flask back to Bobby and takes the knife.  Pushing his sleeve up, he makes a small nick just below the scar from the basilisk fang. Flipping the knife around, he hands it back to Dean. Bobby looks satisfied at this, and gestures them all inside.

Once they are all inside and sitting around the kitchen table, Bobby leans back and stares at Harry.

“Look, boy.  As nice as it is to hear what happened to Sirius, I knew him twenty some years ago. Things have changed.  What is it that you’re wantin’ from me?”

Harry clears his throat nervously.  He knows he looked young, and these people don’t know his history. If Bobby is the man Harry thinks he, he’ll probably try to send Harry home.

“Er, well, I was hoping to get some tips on hunting.  I’ve only been in America for a month or so, and things are different here, supernaturally speaking. You’re my only contact outside of England.” 

Bobby stares at Harry in silence for a minute, then says,

“And why would I do that? You’re what, nineteen? And you’ve never hunted before? You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. Ain’t no reason for you to get involved in this fight.  Go home to your friends and family before you get yourself killed.”

Harry sighs. “Actually, I’m twenty three.  And my family is all dead, aside from my godson.” Harry scrubs his hands over his face. “Look, it’s clear you’re trying to protect me, but believe me when I say I don’t need protecting. I’ve been fighting since I was eleven years old, and I’m no innocent. I didn’t come here looking to be coddled.  I just want a primer in how hunters operate, and who I can call if I need help. Surely you know some hunters I could talk to if you don’t want to help me yourself?”

Harry looks at Bobby beseechingly before turning to Sam and Dean.

“Come on Dean, you know I’m no child. Vouch for me, will you? Or at least tell me who else to talk to.”

Bobby looks sharply at Dean. “Where’d you two meet, anyhow?”

Sam looks curiously at his brother, and Dean blushes and mumbles something about a bar.

Harry smirks at him.

Sam looks confusedly between Dean and Harry before realization seems to hit.

“You picked him up?” He asks Dean incredulously. “He’s younger than me!”

“Yeah, but have you seen him?” Dean gestures to Harry. “He’s sex on legs!”

“As much as I enjoy hearin about you boys’ sexual exploits,” Bobby cuts in dryly, “That’s really not what we’re talking about now. Although Dean, you really should be more careful who you bring home.  He coulda’ killed you, if he’s anything like Sirius.”

Harry sat up and smiled at Dean triumphantly. “See? Bobby thinks I could take you! Just because I’m small doesn’t mean I can’t kick your arse.”

Dean groans and covers his eyes. “I am not having this conversation.”

Harry looks at Bobby curiously.

“Wait.  So you think I’m a danger to Dean, but you don’t want me to hunt? What’s that about? I mean, I don’t have any experience with your brand of creatures, but it’s not like I haven’t fought before. I’m pretty handy in a fight, ask -well- ask anyone that knows me. Whether they like me or not, I think most people will agree that I’m not someone to be messed with. If you want me out of your hair, I’m gone.  But don’t think sending me away is going to keep me from hunting.”

“Why do you even want to go into hunting? It ain't a field people usually go into if they got any choice in the matter.”

Harry shrugs at this. “I got restless in England. Like I said, I've been fighting one thing or another since I was eleven. I don't think I could stand not doing something for long, and I'm looking for a change. Given what Sirius wrote in his journal, this is good work.”

Bobby regards him thoughtfully for a moment, before sighing. “Alright kid.  We got ourselves a bit of a situation here.  You stick around, you’re gonna find yourself in a lot more danger than you signed up for.  I’m not sayin’ we couldn’t use your help, I’m just telling you how it is. You want to leave, I’ll give you my number and the info for a couple hunters I know. Maybe give you a couple books to study. So what’ll it be? You going to stick around a while?”

Harry contemplates Bobby’s expression for a moment.  He seems sincere enough about letting him stay. He glances over at Sam and Dean.  Sam merely looks curious, but Dean had a flat look, like he’s trying to hide whatever he’s thinking. That look settles it. He likes Dean, and Bobby seems like a good sort, if a little gruff. He likes Sam too, although he hasn’t talked to the younger brother much.  His demeanor reminds him of Neville at the end of the war. A good, steady man to have on your side. He figures he could do worse than getting some training and helping the brothers at the same time. It doesn’t hurt that he might get to know Dean a little better, Harry thinks wryly.

Nodding decisively, he looks back at Bobby. “I’ll stick around for now, if it’s okay with you. I can get a room in town if you want,” he adds, uncertain.

Bobby immediately shakes his head. “You can stay here for now.  We’ll see if you’re a good fit.  I got room, and it ain’t like I don’t already have these two dunderheads tromping around all hours of the night and day.”

Harry smiles, and glances at the brothers.  Dean seems pleased, which puts to rest the last of Harry's fears. He wouldn't want to stay if it made things awkward for the other man. Sam looks less excited at this turn of events, and Harry makes a note to talk to him soon. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Harry sinks back into a chair in the messy kitchen.  He had grabbed his bags and stashed them in a room Dean had shown him before Bobby grabbed him for a talk. Harry had a pretty good idea how this talk was going to go, and he was relieved that it was just Bobby, and not the brothers that he would have to explain himself to. Shutting the kitchen door, Bobby turns toward Harry and sits across the table from him.

“So. What makes you think you’ll make a good hunter? You done much fighting with them magic types in England?” Bobby questions archly.

Harry gives Bobby a thin smile. “I’ve done my share of fighting, yeah. I spent the last few years as an Auror, which is like magical law enforcement. I needed to get away from England because, well, I’m rather well known in the Wizarding community. It was getting to the point where I couldn’t leave my house without being pestered by reporters, let alone do my ruddy job. My boss stuck me on desk duty, not that I blame him. I’m not cut out for an office job. I’ve spent too much time fighting to be comfortable sticking to the sidelines.”

Bobby’s eyebrows rise steadily as Harry talks.

“You left fame behind to be a hunter? Are you daft, boy? What are you famous for anyway? You rich or something?”

“Or something,” Harry responds dryly. Sobering, he adds, “I’m famous for killing a very powerful, very evil wizard. You may have heard of terrorist attacks in England a few years ago? That would be his doing. He did a lot of terrible things in a hunt for power and immortality, including take over our ministry, in the end. He needed to be stopped. Still, I don’t find it all that pleasant to be famous for killing someone.”

Bobby looks at Harry incredulously. “You took out some all-powerful evil wizard who had taken over your ministry when you were what, twenty?”

“Actually, I killed him when I was seventeen,” Harry answers. “Really, there was no way around it.  It had to be me. It was prophesied. Besides, he killed my parents, and his followers killed Sirius and some of my other friends trying to get to me. I don’t like to talk about it much.”

Bobby considers this, then nods slowly. “Fine.  You got a right to have some secrets. How ‘bout you tell me what happened to Sirius? Why was he in prison?”

Harry sighs, gathering his thoughts. 

“Sirius went to prison for killing twelve people, as well as being responsible for the death of my parents at the hands of Voldemort-the evil wizard I killed. I was one at the time. He was set up by a mutual friend of him and my dad. When he learned of my parent’s death, he confronted Pettigrew, who proclaimed to a busy street that Sirius got my parents killed, before blowing up much of the street and faking his own death. There wasn’t even a trial. Sirius felt so guilty about convincing my parents to trust Pettigrew with their location that he allowed himself to be imprisoned. He only escaped when he saw a picture of my best friend in the news.  Pettigrew could turn into a rat, and he had been hiding as a family pet for twelve years.  Sirius couldn’t allow the traitor to be so close to me, so he broke out to protect me and kill Pettigrew. After almost a year, Pettigrew escaped, but not before I saw him, and he confessed to working for Voldemort, who was assumed dead at the time. If Pettigrew hadn't gotten away, Sirius' good name could have been cleared then. Instead, Sirius lived as a fugitive for a couple of years, and then he rescued me from a trap when I was fifteen.  Voldemort had lured me out by making me believe he had Sirius, and there was a battle at the ministry building. Sirius was cursed by his cousin Bellatrix, and he didn’t make it out of the ministry. Bellatrix is dead now.  She died in the final battle, along with a lot of other people.”

At the end of this explanation, Bobby sits back with a stunned look on his face. Taking off his hat and running his hands over his face, he looks across the table at Harry.

“Well, I’m glad the bitch that killed him is dead, and I’m sorry you lost people, kid. I’ll help you learn about huntin’ if this is really what you want to do. Might be best to keep quiet about the magic stuff around the Winchesters though.  Don’t rightly know how they’d react. They're good boys, but their dad was of the shoot first, ask questions later school of thought. They've done good on their own, and I ain't saying John wasn't a good man, and a good hunter. He just had some prejudices that may've got passed on in the learning.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Dean loiters outside the kitchen, hoping Harry and Bobby will be done talking soon. He gets the troubled past thing- I mean come on, he just came from Hell! That doesn't mean he isn’t curious about Harry. From what Harry had said, he had started hunting almost as early as Sam and Dean had. Although he hadn't said hunting, he had said fighting, so maybe he hadn't been connected with the supernatural aspect of things. At any rate, if Bobby said he could take Dean, it was probably best not to underestimate him.

On one hand, Dean hopes the younger man will stick around. Last night had been very fun, and he wouldn't be averse to spending more time in bed with Harry. On the other hand, now is not the best time to be teaching a new hunter. Even if Bobby says he’s dangerous.  With Castiel (the angel of the lord, what the fuck was up with that?) popping in, and his recurring nightmares of Hell, things are pretty complicated.  He still doesn’t know why he was pulled from Hell in the first place, and he is wary of bringing Harry into whatever is happening. Added to that, Dean is sure Sam’s  hiding something from him. He hasn't figured out what yet, but Sam is acting cagey. 

After a few minutes, the door to the kitchen opens, and Harry and Bobby come out.  Bobby gives Dean a long look, and then sighs. 

“Suppose we should fill Harry here in on what's going on if he's going to be working with us. You want to do the honors? Seems to me like you got the most secrets to keep, what with where you been recently.”

Dean grimaces, but nods and gestures Harry toward the couch in the living room. 

“You might as well sit down.  This is a pretty long weird story, especially if you've never hunted before.  You said your godfather was a hunter, right? So you must know about some of the crazy shit out there.”

Harry nods cautiously. “I wouldn't go so far as to say he was a hunter, but he took a year off after school and did some hunting. Believe me, I'm not easily spooked by the supernatural.  Even discounting Sirius' journal, we have a lot of magic and creatures in England. I've studied pretty extensively.”

Dean makes a note to ask Harry about the spooky shit in England before clearing his throat self-consciously.

“Yeah, well. My life story is still pretty unbelievable. Me and Sammy, we were raised hunters. Our mom was killed by a demon when Sammy was just a baby. Dad had a vendetta against the demon, and it got him killed a couple years back. Dad ended up making a deal with the demon, Azazel, for my life. He's not in hell anymore, and Azazel is dead and gone now, but you probably need to know all this to believe what's going on now.”

Harry nods sympathetically, and though he had looked a bit skeptical at the first mention of a demon, he doesn’t interrupt. Dean is grateful.  It’s hard enough telling this story as it is.  He would hate for Harry to not believe him after all off it.

“Anyway, that all brings us to what's going on now.  Until just recently I was in Hell.  A year and a half ago, Sam was killed by one of Azazel's minions, and I made a deal to get him back.  He's the only brother I've got, and I couldn't just let him die. The demon I made a deal with gave me a year before I would be dragged down to Hell. Four months ago, she came to collect. Then just a few days ago, I wake up in a pine box. Adding to that the fact that I was all cut to shreds when I died, I was justifiably freaked out.  Thought Sam had made some kind of deal to get me out of hell. That's where I got that fuckin handprint brand on my shoulder too. When Sam told me he didn't do anything, and he seemed as surprised at my being alive again as me, I thought for sure it was some bad shit, and some big boss demon brought me out for some reason. A couple days ago, Bobby and I summoned Castiel, who we got a tip about from a psychic friend of Bobby's. He said, and I'm not sure I really believe him, that he was an angel of the lord. Said god had plans for me or some shit.” 

At this, Dean gives a derisive scoff. 

“Sam is all for believing in angels and all that shit. I'm not convinced, but whatever it is, it had to be really powerful to yank me from the pit.” Dean sighs. “Anyway, either way, it's big. I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to run in the opposite direction.  I know you said you wanted to hunt, but this isn't exactly normal hunter shit we're dealing with right now.”

Harry stands up from the couch and steps over to Dean. 

“Thanks for telling me your family drama. I take it the nightmares were from your time in Hell? I can't imagine what that must have been like, and I only have a basic grasp on the Christian religion's monsters. I won't pry, but I do want you to know that if you want a non-judgmental ear, I'll be available for that.” He reaches over to Dean and gives his arm a firm squeeze.

“Or if you just want to forget for a while,” Harry adds, expression turning sly.

Dean laughs, startled, then grins wickedly at Harry. “I might just take you up on that.” Sobering, Dean adds, “So, you'll stay? I really do think it would be better if you found another, easier hunter to get help from. We have a lot going on now, and I don't want to waste your time. If you're staying though, you can ride with us. I'm sure Bobby will offer too, but he's more into research. If you're going into the field, it will be me and Sam. You can come in the impala if you want, or caravan on your bike.”

Harry nods thoughtfully. “I think I'll take you up on that. Much as I love my bike, it's not always convenient for long trips. Are you sure Sam wouldn't mind? I wouldn't want to step on any toes, and if you two work well together I wouldn't want to do anything to break that up.”

“Sammy will deal with it.  It's my car, my rules. As long as you like classic rock, and you take the back.  Sammy's legs are too long.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is where the canon typical violence comes in. Not horrible, but I figure y'all could do with a warning in case you don't like violence. If you've watched Supernatural season 4 recently, you may notice that I lifted a few lines whole from the relevant episode. As always, I hope y'all like it, and feel free to leave me a comment.

**Chapter Seven**

Bobby walks into the living room from the library, Sam trailing behind him. He has a worried frown on his face.

“I called an old hunter friend of mine, Olivia. She's not picking up, and that's not like her.  She's only about six hours from here, so I'm going to go check it out.  You boys want to come with? Harry, you're welcome to come too. Don't rightly know what's up, but you gotta start somewhere.”

Harry immediately stands. “I'll grab my bag,” he says, before turning to Dean. “That offer of a ride on the table now?”

Dean nods, and behind him Sam looks resigned to Dean getting his way. That’s enough for Harry, who goes to grab his stuff before meeting the brothers and Bobby on the porch. Harry rummages in his saddlebags before pulling out a sword that seemingly wouldn't fit in the bags, raising a few eyebrows. He hands it off to Dean to put in the trunk with a small shrug and an apologetic grimace. Tossing his bag in the backseat of the sleek black car, he clambers in after it. Sam and Dean exchange a puzzled glance before getting in the car and getting on the road to Illinois.

The scene the hunters are met with once they reach Olivia's house is not pretty. There is salt scattered everywhere, and a shotgun next to her body. Harry thinks it looks rather like she’s been hit with a blasting hex. Harry walks around the room, noting the signs of a struggle before going to look at the woman's weapons stash. It’s a good idea to get a feel for the sort of weapons he should use in this line of work, especially if he keeps working with hunters who know nothing of his magical abilities. Sam and Dean are conferring by the body, and Bobby had almost immediately left the room.  Harry feels for the older hunter.  He understands how hard it is to see the death of people you care about, even knowing they have such a dangerous profession.

Making his way over to the body, Harry crouches by the two brothers. Dean kept shooting him worried looks as he walked around the room, as if waiting for him to freak out. He figures the best thing to do is to get over that now. He has been through a war, and though bodies are never good news, he is mentally prepared to encounter them in this new line of work.  It's not as if his last job had been bloodless.

“So, what are we looking at here?” Harry starts carefully. “What could be behind an attack of this kind? Given the salt everywhere, she must have been worried about ghosts. Do ghost normally cause this much damage? And in her own home? I assumed most hunters would ward their personal homes against things like this.”

Dean gives one last grim look around, before beckoning Sam and Harry out the door.

“I'd say ghosts by the look of all that salt, and she got to the weapons in time. She had a shotgun with salt and iron pellets, so she was expecting them.  From what Bobby says though, Olivia was a good hunter. Pretty strange that she would be caught like this in her own home. I haven't heard of ghosts following hunters home like this before unless there is some personal tie.” As Dean finishes talking, Bobby walks up to the three men.

“I just called a couple hunters I know nearby. They ain't picking up either. I figure we should check on em, maybe warn em about whatever the hell this is. If anything, we could use the help. You boys go check on Jeb, I'll take Harry with me and we'll meet back at my place.”

Harry grabs his bag and sword from Dean's car, and he and Bobby head back toward the junkyard in South Dakota, swinging by the home of another hunter friend of Bobby's on the way. The scene at this house is much the same, and Bobby and Harry spend the duration of the ride in silence. Bobby is clearly angry about the deaths of his friends, or coworkers at the least. Harry thinks it best to leave him be for now.

Upon reaching the junkyard, Bobby makes a beeline to the library, and Harry hangs by the door for a moment before going to unpack his saddlebags. It would not do to remove too many things from them in front of the brothers. They were clearly confused by how Harry had fit a sword in the packs, and he thinks it best to keep the suspicion to a minimum. Harry had hoped to pick up some tips about hunting from Bobby before heading off on his own. As such, he didn't have many muggle weapons on hand. The sword was an old heirloom from Sirius. He had mentioned in his journal wishing he had been able to get his family sword before his foray to America. Turned out being from such an old pureblood family was sometimes good, as they had a few goblin-made artifacts left. Sirius talked in his journal about his theories that the goblins forged their weapons with various creatures in mind. Harry suspects the sword had silver alloy along with the steel, and as such it will be valuable against ghosts, werewolves and various other magical beasts and creatures. He hopes it will prove useful against demons as well. There wasn't much mention of demons in the wizarding world, likely due to their inability to possess wizards, but goblins were crafty buggers.

Hearing a clang from the house, accompanied by a muffled shout, Harry drops his bags and runs for the porch, sword in hand. Upon entering the house, Harry sees Bobby struggling with two little girls, one of whom had her hand _inside_ his chest. Lunging forward, Harry brings the sword cleanly through both girls. They both disappear on contact. Panting, Bobby drops down to sit on the staircase behind him.

“Thanks for the save, Harry. I just froze up for a moment there. Can't remember the last time that happened. Guess we better call the boys, tell em to get their asses back here. Meantime, maybe we ought to go somewhere more protected. 'fore you start getting ghosts too.”

Harry nods. “I don't know if I would get any ghosts. Wizards don't come back the same way muggles do. They're a bit more in control when they come back as ghosts. And oftentimes more friendly.”

“I had a history teacher who was a ghost,” Harry adds, smirking.  “Dead boring.”

Bobby snorts weakly, shaking his head and standing.

“Alright boy, let's get down to the basement, before those girls come back. You got any good magic tricks up your sleeve for dealing with ghosts?”

Harry follows Bobby down the stairs and into a well equipped panic room, looking around curiously at the weapons store and the iron walls.

“Not so much, no. I can probably blast ghosts, which should keep them off you for a bit. Banish them probably, but that would take more time, and I don't know the spell offhand for that. I haven't dealt with non-magic ghosts much, so I don't know the differences. Haven't dealt with the magic ones much either if I'm being honest. Not from a defense standpoint anyway. I could call a friend back in Britain, see if she could do a bit of research for us. Unless you have some books here,” Harry adds hopefully.

Bobby rummages around a pile of books for a while before unearthing a couple of large tomes. “Start here. Ghosts don't just appear for no reason. I'm gonna make a call, tell those idjits to be careful.”

Stepping away from Harry, Bobby pulls out his phone. Harry can hear him talking, but focuses on skimming the books in front of him for anything relevant. As soon as Bobby gets off the phone he stomps over.

“Guess Sam had a run in with a ghost of his own. Caught em in a gas station, but they hightailed it out of there before it could do much damage. It looks like the ghosts are people we couldn't save. Those two girls, I let em get killed on a hunt years back. Didn't see em in time and they got eaten by a wendigo. Guess Sam saw some FBI agent they ran into a while back. They should be here in a couple hours. Then maybe we can narrow the search down some.”

Harry and Bobby spend a couple of hours searching through various arcane books. By the time the brothers tromp into the house above them, Bobby has found some obscure reference to ghosts in the Book of Revelations and is trying to hunt down a ritual for it.

Harry glances at the ceiling when he hears the front door open above them. Sighing, he stands. “I'll go get them and bring them down here. Probably best we stick together right now, and I'm hoping I don't get any ghosts tailing me specifically.”

Harry swiftly makes his way up the stairs to the main house, and when he pushes open the door to the basement he finds himself face to face with the barrel of a shotgun. Dean sucks in a sharp breath, lowering the gun and stepping forward to grasp Harry's arm.

“Glad you're okay. Where's Bobby? I sent Sam upstairs to look for him.”

Harry jerks his head at the stairs behind him. “Bobby's safe, he's got a nice iron room down there. That's where we've been waiting for you. Let's get Sam and go join him. I think he found something.”

Dean's eyebrows raise at the mention of the panic room, and he smirks.

“Figures Bobby would build his own ghost-proof panic room,” Dean says, then turns to holler up the stairs. “Sammy! Found em!”

They are met with a muffled thump coming from upstairs, followed by the clatter of something being thrown across the floor. Exchanging worried glances, Dean races up the stairs, Harry right behind him. By the time Harry crested the stairs, Dean had cocked his shotgun and shot at something down the hall. Harry follows Dean to where Sam is scrambling to his feet.

“Fuck! That was Meg. Meg, who was possessed by a demon a couple years ago. What the fuck is going on here?”

Harry steps forward.

“Bobby thinks he found something, he's just looking for a ritual now. Did Meg have any weird markings on her? Anything that maybe wasn’t there when she was alive?”

Sam swallows and nods. “Yeah,” he sighs. “She had some mark on her hand, looked like a brand. I could maybe draw it. I think Henrickson had a mark on his hand too, but I can't be sure.”

“Well, we can figure that out downstairs,” Harry says, gesturing for the brothers to precede him down the staircase. “I'm sure Bobby told you he had some visitors here too.”

The three men make it down the stairs and into the panic room with no further mishaps.

Dean steps forward, looking around the iron room.

“What the fuck, Bobby? You built a panic room?”

“What?” Bobby replies exasperatedly. “I had a spare weekend.”

Dean scoffs and looks around again.

“Dude. You are awesome.”

Bobby clears his throat somewhat self-consciously, glancing at Sam and Harry before looking back at his books.

“Anyway. I think I found somethin. Called the mark of the witnesses. Either of you see any marks on your ghost?”

“That would be ghosts,” Harry pipes in helpfully. “And Sam said there was some kind of brand on their hands.”

Bobby nods and pulls one book closer. “Look somethin like this?” he asks, gesturing to a drawing on the page. At Sam's nod, he sits back.

“Well, good news is I found us a banishment spell, and I have all the ingredients we'll need in this house. Bad news is, this is some heavy shit if this is actually what it is. Like, signs of the apocalypse shit.”

Dean leans forward and asks hopefully, “Any chance you have all the ingredients in this room?”

Bobby scoffs, “What, you thought our luck was gonna start now, all of a sudden? No, we need an open fire.”

Sam groans. “The fireplace in the library.”

Harry steps forward, reading over the spell.

“I could perform this with no problem if we can get all the ingredients together. It's got a few quirks in the writing, but it seems doable.” Harry glances uncertainly at Bobby. “Unless you wanted to perform it?”

Dean gapes at the two of them from where he’s standing.

“What the hell? Does everyone in this house but me read Latin? What the fuck? I thought you said you weren't a hunter back in England.”

Harry glances up from collecting the books they would need for the spell. “I learned at boarding school. Required class.”

Dean seems even more flummoxed by this. “You went to boarding school? I thought you said you started fighting when you were eleven!”

Harry's mouth quirks up a bit as he responded, “Yes, well. It wasn't exactly the safest boarding school. I've lost track of how many times a teacher almost killed me. It's much safer now!” Harry hurriedly added. “My godson is going there in a few years.”

Dean shakes his head. “Whatever man. Your life is weird, let's move on.”

The three hunters all arm themselves, and Harry hefts his sword in one hand, carrying the spellbooks in the other. It will be strange doing a spell without his wand, but this isn't exactly a spell. More a ritual, something even muggles could do.

The minute they step out of the panic room all hell broke loose. There are the little girls again, and there is a man on the stairs as well. Dean shoots the man, Harry slashes through the girls and they hustle up the stairs into the library. Once there, Sam and Dean set about lining everything with salt while Bobby starts a quick fire. When Harry thinks Sam and Dean are too preoccupied to notice, Harry sends a quick _incendio_ to help it along. Then he sets about preparing for the ritual, and Bobby makes a break for the kitchen, upending a drawer on the floor and grabbing some pouches of herbs. Harry looks up sharply when the doors to the kitchen slam closed, but Dean had already vaulted over the couch to yank them open again. Bobby stumbles into the library and tosses the herbs to Harry, and Harry secured them with a wandless, silent _accio._ While the brothers and Bobby focus on redrawing salt lines and shooting any ghosts that get too close, Harry starts chanting the ritual, mixing the herbs in a bowl in front of him. He thanks Snape at times like these for being so demanding in potions. This is nothing compared to some of those classes. Harry reaches the end of the spell and tosses the ingredients into the fire just as the brothers run out of ammo, and the little ghost girls have Bobby backed into a corner. Suddenly all the ghosts are gone, and the supernatural wind died down. All four men gust relieved sighs.

“Damn, that was close,” says Dean. “Let's not do that again.”

Harry nods agreement as everyone finds a place to sit and catch their breath.

After a few minutes of exhausted silence, Harry heaves a sigh.

“Well, this has been an exciting first few days of knowing all of you. If you don't mind, I'm just going to go collect my things from outside and go to bed.”

As Harry walks past the hunters on the way back from outside, he shoots Dean a sly look before continuing to the bedroom Bobby has allowed him to use.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is all smut. You're welcome!

**Chaper Eight**

In the library, Dean glances between Bobby and Sam and fakes a wide yawn.

“All that ghost killing tired me out. I'm just gonna go crash now.”

Bobby snorts disbelievingly and Sam rolls his eyes.

“Yeah Dean, I'm sure you're going straight to sleep. Definitely not going to go find Harry and get in a little more exercise,” Sam snarks.

Dean's cheeks redden, but he doesn't even try to deny it. He gets up and saunters out of the library. Normally he thinks he would be more worried about Bobby and Sam knowing about his proclivity for men. Harry's cool though, and it's clear that Sam trusts him more after the showdown with the ghosts. Dean suspects Sam is more approving of Harry than any of the normal girls he's hooked up with before.

Knocking on Harry's temporary room, he waits for a muffled 'come in' before pushing the door open and walking in. Harry is still organizing some of his stuff, but he smiles at Dean and beckons him closer.

“I wasn't sure I'd see you tonight,” Harry says once Dean is standing in front of him.

“It seems like Bobby and Sam were both a little surprised that you'd pick me up. Is it because I'm a bloke? I didn't sense any hostility from them about it, but I know this isn't exactly what you signed up for. I mean, there's no way you knew when you went back to that hotel with me that I would essentially follow you home. If you don't want this, that's fine. We can just be friends if you want, or I can try to be discreet if you don't want Bobby and your brother knowing. I'll warn you now though, I'm not always great at discretion.”

Dean smiles and shakes his head.

“Nah, it's fine. I mean yeah, it was a surprise to have you know Bobby. And yeah, I normally pick up chicks. But dude, I'm not ashamed of you. And if you want to keep fucking or whatever it is we're doing, that's all good with me. If you don't I can be cool. I mean, don't feel obliged just cause you're helping us now or anything.”

As Dean stops talking, Harry beams up at him before grabbing his face and yanking him into a kiss. They part breathlessly a few minutes later.

Harry chuckles as he leads Dean over to the bed.

“Good. Because you were really bloody hot earlier, and I was really hoping I could convince you to fuck me into the mattress.”

Dean grins and pulls off his shirt. “I'm convinced.” He leans over and locks the door while Harry shimmies out of his jeans and yanks his shirt over his head.

Dean shoves his pants down, cursing when he forgets about his boots and has to sit down to pull them off. Once he's naked, he turns and crawls up the bed, looming over Harry. The bed is small, but neither man seems to mind.

Looking down at Harry, Dean thinks he must have forgotten how fucking gorgeous the man is. He traces the dragon tail winding around Harry's hipbone. He's never cared about tattoos one way or the other, but he really likes Harry's. Or maybe he really likes Harry, full stop.

Harry sits up, reaching for Dean and threading his fingers through his short hair. They meet in a sloppy kiss, more intimate than anything they shared their first night. Knowing Harry makes this different. Dean hasn't slept with many people who can match him in a fight, and it's exhilarating.

Dean leans back, breaking the kiss, and he rakes Harry with a heated gaze.

“Fuck, Harry. You are so fuckin sexy. What do you want from me, huh? You want me to fuck you? You were so good for me last time. You want to be good again? You want to ride me?”

Harry's breath hitches at the mention of being good, and he outright moans at the mention of riding Dean.

Dean grins wickedly and grips Harry's hips, deftly flipping them over and settling down in the middle of the bed, hands caressing Harry's sides.

“Yeah, baby. You want me to work you open, get you all ready for me?” Dean fumbles on the table by the bed for the lube, coating his fingers and dropping the bottle on the bed beside them. Harry slumps down on top of Dean, giving him better access and nosing at Dean's neck. He licks and nips along Dean's neck and up his jaw, kissing him fiercely. Dean works him open faster than he should, but the adrenaline from the fight earlier is still a hum in his veins, and Harry takes his fingers so well, groaning into Dean's mouth and pushing back for more.

When he's sure Harry can take him, he pulls his fingers out and fumbles on a condom, Harry sitting back to give him room. As soon as the condom is on Harry pushes his hands out of the way, scooting up in the bed and sinking down onto Dean's cock in one slow slide. Harry's breath has gone ragged by the time he's all the way seated, and he can't seem to keep his eyes from fluttering closed.

Dean stays still, giving Harry time to adjust, gripping Harry's hips hard enough to leave bruises. He's panting from the hot, tight feeling of being inside Harry. After a moment, Harry rolls his hips, smirking down at Dean when he moans. Dean pulls him up by the hips before slowly pulling him back down again. He maintains this torturous, slow speed for a few more thrusts before his resolve breaks and he pulls Harry down hard, thrusting up at the same time. Harry gasps and grinds back on Dean's cock, before Dean pulls him up again. Harry seems more than happy to keep up the pace Dean sets, lifting up and grinding back in counterpoint to Dean's increasingly frantic thrusts.

Dean feels pleasure run down his spine, hot and fierce, and he reaches around and fists Harry's cock in time with his thrusts. Harry gasps, and Dean only gets in a few pumps before he has Harry spilling over his hand. Dean shoves up one more, yanking Harry back onto his cock and grinding. He can feel Harry clenching around him, and he topples over the edge, coming hard before going boneless, pulling Harry down on top of him. They just breathe together for a moment before Harry rolls to the side, letting Dean slip out. Dean ties up the condom and tosses it toward the trash bin in the corner, and Harry snuggles up to his side, resting his head on his shoulder.

Dean reaches down and pulls up the blanket from where it lies pooled on the ground by the bed, clumsily spreading it over them both. Harry just hums sleepily and nuzzles closer, draping an arm and a leg over Dean, effectively trapping him. Dean wraps his arm around Harry's waist and kisses his forehead sleepily.

“Night babe,” He mumbles, closing his eyes.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's a little interlude chapter. More to come as soon as I get some spare time!

**Chapter Nine**

Dean wakes up all at once. It's still nighttime, and for once he wasn't woken up by nightmares. Harry is still sleeping next to him. Glancing around, his gaze stops in the open doorway, where Castiel is frowning down at him. When he sees Dean looking, he turns and walks away.

Dean huffs quietly before disentangling himself from the still sleeping Harry and going to confront the Angel. He finds Castiel in the kitchen, leaning against the sink.

The angel looks up and says, “Excellent job with the witnesses.”

Dean scoffs disbelievingly. “You knew about all this?”

Castiel nods. “I was made aware.”

Dean steps closer, getting angry. “Yeah? Well then where the fuck were you? You know I almost got killed? Sammy almost got killed? I thought angels were supposed to be guardians. Help out humanity, that sort of thing.”

Castiel's eyes narrow. “I have more to do than watch over you all hours of the day.”

“Oh yeah? What kind of things? People were dying down here, and you don't even deign to show up? What the fuck kind of angel are you? And what about God, if there is a god. Where was he, huh?”

“There is a god,” Castiel says in a calm voice.

Dean rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay. A god that doesn't care about anyone. Fine. Was Bobby right? About the witnesses? Is it a sign of the apocalypse?”

Castiel turns to face Dean more fully. “Yes. The rising of the witnesses is one of 66 seals. Lillith performed the spell to break the seal. And not just here. Twenty other hunters are dead.”

Dean nods in understanding. “She did the spell to raise the witnesses. She chose ghosts who would go after hunters. But we put those ghosts to rest.”

“The seal was still broken. And Lillith is breaking more. We cannot let her break all sixty six seals. Six angels have already died trying to stop her.”

“So what happens if all these seals are broken?” Dean questions warily.

“Think of the seals like locks on a door. If all the seals fall, the door will open. Lucifer will walk free.”

Dean steps back, stunned. “Lucifer? Like the devil? I thought he was just a story told by demons.”

Castiel shook his head. “Lucifer is very real. This is why we are here on earth for the first time in millennia. To stop Lucifer.”

“Well, you've done a real great job so far. Sure glad to have you around.”

Castiel steps close, menacing. “You are not my only concern. You should show me some respect. I pulled you out of Hell, I can throw you back in.” Stepping back, Castiel adds, “Besides, it seems like you survived just fine without me. And now you've somehow got the assistance of Britain's Saviour. Have a care around him. You may not like him when you find out what he is.”

Dean suddenly finds himself standing in an empty kitchen. Seemingly the next moment, he wakes to sunlight streaming in the windows of the room he shared with Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd say I'm sorry about leaving y'all on a cliffhanger, but I'm not. Because I'm secretly kinda mean. I promise I won't leave you hanging for too long though!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean confronts Harry about his mysterious origins, and the hunters discuss the impending apocalypse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting. Life has been catching up to me in the form of insomnia, yard work and busy work days. Thank you all for reading my story! I am so glad you like it, and I can't wait to share more!

**Chapter Ten**

 

Dean glances around the room, noting that Harry already woke and left the room. He can hear quiet voices coming from somewhere down the hall. Dean stays where he is for a few moments, digesting everything Castiel told him in his dream. Believing in the upcoming apocalypse is a pretty big stretch, but what keeps circling his mind is what Castiel said about Harry. Dean knows he should be more concerned with what's happening with Lillith, and with the devil. He knows Harry is just one person, and whatever he ends up being is small news compared to stopping the literal apocalypse. He can't help feeling betrayed, though. He trusted Harry, and he thought they worked well together. If he understands Castiel right, Harry might not even be human. And besides, there has to be a reason he didn't tell them before. If it was something innocuous, surely Harry would have mentioned it.

With a last sigh, Dean heaves himself up and starts getting dressed. No point delaying any longer. Once dressed, Dean makes his way to the kitchen. Harry is making breakfast, and Sam and Bobby are both sitting at the table. Bobby is reading the news and eating breakfast and Sam is cleaning his guns.

When Sam notices Dean in the doorway, he raises his eyebrows and smirks. “Morning Dean. Did you have a good night?” He glances pointedly at Harry, who turned to smile at Dean when he heard Sam's greeting. Dean smiles back weakly, going to sit by Sam and shoving his shoulder.

“Shut it Bitch.”

Sam just snorts. “Yeah, whatever Jerk.”

Harry drifts over and rests a hand on Dean's shoulder. When Dean tenses up, he withdraws it and frowns down at Dean in confusion. Dean just shoots him an apologetic grimace before going back to the gun in front of him. He is still upset about all he learned from Castiel, and much as he would like to trust Harry, he can't shake the thought that whatever Harry is hiding will change how he sees the other man.

Harry steps back, walking over to the coffee pot.

“Dean, you want some coffee?”

Dean looks up at Harry. “Yeah, thanks. Just black is fine.”

Harry smiles wanly at him and pours him a cup, sliding it over before taking a seat by Bobby.

“I thought maybe we could talk about yesterday, since we are all here now. Do we have any idea who was behind this raising of the witnesses? And if this is really a sign of the apocalypse, what does that mean in the long run? Will there be more things like this in the future? I know I'm new to hunting, but I got the impression yesterday that this wasn't typical, even for hunters.”

Dean cleared his throat nervously. “I might have some information. I had an angelic visitor last night. Either that or I had a real fucked up dream. He told me some about what's going on. It's not good. And he told me some about you, Harry.” Dean looked at Harry across the table, watching his reaction. “Said something about you being Britain's saviour.”

Harry grimaced and looked away.

At this confirmation that he had in fact had an angel visit his dreams, Dean scowled at Harry. “He also said that I might not like you when I find out what you are. What did he mean by that, Harry? The way he said it seemed to imply that you're not human. That true?” Dean's grip tightened on the shotgun he had been cleaning. It wasn't loaded, but he felt safer with some kind of weapon in his hand. Sam was tense beside him, looking between Harry and Dean with growing worry.

Harry glances at Bobby before sighing. “I have been called Britain's Saviour before, though I was hoping to leave that behind when I came here. As for the other comment, he may be right about that too. Before I tell you more, you must know that Bobby knew before he let me into his house.” Harry looks over to Bobby, who nods and places a hand on Harry's shoulder in support. “I am as human as you, I just have some abilities you don't. These abilities did not come at the price of a deal or anything nefarious. I was born with them, same as my parents. Same as my godfather.” Harry takes a deep breath, and says calmly, “I'm a wizard.”

Dean looks at him incredulously. “ [ You're a wizard, Harry ](http://data.whicdn.com/images/12190379/large.png) ? What, like magic and wands and all that shit? Or is this like being a witch? I gotta be honest with you, I haven't had good interactions with witches. And what do you mean about your parents?”

Dean turns to Bobby accusingly. “You knew about this? And didn't tell us? What the fuck Bobby? Are you crazy?”

Bobby glares at Dean. “Let Harry talk, boy. Don't just think you know all the answers. Yes I knew, and I didn't tell you because I didn't think you'd handle it well and it's none of your damn business. Sirius was a good man, and from what I can see, Harry is too.”

Dean glares back at Bobby for a minute before giving a disgruntled huff and turning to Harry. “Well, go on then. Explain how you're magic but not evil.”

“Gee, it's really nice how you're giving me the benefit of the doubt, Dean,” Harry responds drolly.

Taking a deep breath, Harry looks at the brothers across from him. Dean looks angry, and a little hurt. His hands are crossed defensively across his chest. Sam just looks tense and bewildered. He's still got his hand on the gun in front of him, though there aren't any bullets in it.

“There is a whole group of people living in secret all around the world. You know some about magical creatures, but there's a lot more out there than you can imagine. I'm a wizard, and my dad was a wizard. My mom was a witch. It's an inherent gift. I've got magic in my blood, and it makes me different from people without, or muggles. I went to school to learn how to control my magic. With a magic wand,” Harry added, sneaking a sly look at Dean. “I can show you my wand later if you like.”

Harry sighed, and ran his hand through his hair. “I haven't had to explain this to anyone before. Everyone in the wizarding world already knew my story, and probably knew as much or more about magic than me. I guess I'll just tell you a little about my life. My parents were killed by a dark wizard when I was a baby. After he killed my parents, he tried to kill me, but the spell didn't work. My mother's sacrifice protected me, and he died, for a time at least. I was raised by my aunt and uncle, who hated me for my magic. They were spiteful, petty people. When I was eleven, I started attending Hogwarts, which is a magic school in Scotland. Turns out this dark wizard, Voldemort, wasn't as dead as people hoped. He came back in one iteration or another for my first couple years of school. In third year, my godfather broke out of prison to protect me from one of his followers. That man resurrected him at the end of my fourth year, and gave him a new body through a dark spell and the unwilling donation of my blood. The traitor Wormtail, killed one of my classmates then too. He collected followers for several years, and during what should have been my seventh year at school, he took over our ministry, effectively controlling all of Wizarding Britain. I went into hiding, preparing to kill him for good. Eventually I succeeded, though not without casualties. A lot of good wizards and witches died, and plenty of muggles as well. You might recall word getting out about mysterious disappearances several years ago. Terrorist attacks. That sort of thing. That would be his work. Anyway, now I'm famous in the Wizarding world. The boy who lived, the chosen one, the saviour. They have all sorts of rubbish names for me.”

Harry leans back in his chair, tapping his fingers on the table and waiting for the inevitable questions.

Sam speaks first. “You mean there's a whole community of people the world has never heard of? How do you keep it a secret?”

Harry looks at Sam and grimaces. “We don't always manage to keep it secret, and we didn't live in quite so much isolation before. When magic wielders started to be hunted, we withdrew. There are charms and spells to keep muggles out of our areas. And if anyone does find out, we have memory charms to make them forget. There are exceptions made for family of muggle-born witches and wizards, but the wizarding world takes their secrets very seriously. A lot of the old families haven't interacted with muggles in any long-term way for generations. Whenever I go over to my friend's house, his dad always asks me barmy questions about technology. What is a 'fellytone', and how do batteries work. They sent me a letter over the summer one year, and I swear they put at least thirty stamps on it. My aunt and uncle were not pleased about that. Thought it made them look odd in their perfect suburban neighborhood.”

Dean looks cautious. “You change people's memories? What the fuck? Don't think you'll get away with doing that to us!”

“Don't worry Dean, I have no intention of changing your memory. I promise.” Harry gives Dean a reassuring smile. “Just don't tell anyone about any of this. First off, you'd sound crazy, and secondly, you'd probably get the attention of MACUSA if you told enough people. They're even worse about their secrets here than in England. Granted they've gotten a bit better over the years, but I wouldn't shout about it too loud.”

Bobby cut in when the brothers looked confused. “MACUSA is America's Wizarding government. They aren't fond of hunters, but they tend to leave us alone if we don't know about their world.” Bobby looks a little fidgety as he continues. “I, ah, met a hunter whose dad worked for MACUSA. She was a Squib. Born of magic parents but with no magic herself. Guess she wanted some of the magic even if she couldn't use it. She was more a hunter of convenience. Went after anything near where she lived. Well, she had a couple of those moving pictures in her house. I saw em before she was able to hide them away. Think I scared her half to death when I asked if she was a witch, but Sirius had a couple of those in his wallet. Anyway, she told me some about how the government is here. Said if I didn't mention magic to anyone, and didn't go after kids with non-magic parents, I should be fine. Guess kids can't control their magic yet, so they make weird shit happen sometimes. I told her I ain't ever hunted children, and I'm not about to start now. Anyway, she was killed on a hunt a few years back. She set it up so if she died her cousin would notify all of her contacts. Wasn't able to go to her funeral, and she said her family would bury her in a wizard cemetery, so there are charms up preventing me from visiting. She was a good woman, and a tough hunter.”

Dean sat back in his seat. “Huh. Did you hook up with her?”

Sam looked over at Dean with a scandalized look on his face. “Dean,” he hissed. “Show some respect. Bobby just said that she died, don't go prying into her life!”

Harry watched the brothers with an amused quirk to his lips, before turning a more serious look on Bobby. “Sorry to hear that she died. And thanks for telling us about it. I didn't exactly tell MACUSA I'd be here, and I only know about them from my time as an Auror, so I don't know all the intricacies of their politics concerning hunters.”

Sam cleared his throat. “So, let me just paraphrase what you told us. There's wizards and witches living in hidden communities, both here and in England, who go to great lengths to stay hidden. You went to magic school, where you were almost killed most years, and lived with family that hated you. And this community reveres you as some kind of ultimate hero, yet they let you live with your awful family anyway. And you killed the evil wizard who killed your parents. Is that about right? What's this about you being an Auror? What does that mean?”

Harry nods at Sam. “Yeah, that's about the gist of it. An auror like a police officer, kind of. We keep order and track down dark wizards and witches. It's a branch of the DMLE, or the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I became an auror after the final battle so I could help track down the remaining Death Eaters. That is, Voldemort's minions. After the Ministry was taken back and order was somewhat restored, there was a lot of hunting to be done for dark wizards who gained power under Voldemort, both within the Ministry and on the run. Plus, my dad was an auror, and it was kind of expected. When I stopped being able to leave the Ministry without being fawned over or attacked, I was put on desk duty. I decided being an auror wasn't really for me, and came here. I inherited plenty of money from my parents and Sirius, so I figured I'd travel around for a while, and help where I can. That's why I became an auror in the first place, after all.”

Harry looks around the room expectantly. “Well? Any other burning questions? Or should we get on to the literal apocalypse that seems to be looming?”

Dean grumbles something under his breath before huffing. “Fine. You and me are gonna have a talk about you almost getting killed when were a kid, and about these bullshit relatives of yours. But yeah, we should probably talk about the apocalypse.”

Dean sipped his coffee before continuing. “Castiel said there are sixty six seals, and they are being broken now. I guess the raising of the witnesses broke a seal. Lilith is breaking them, and if they all break, Lucifer walks free. I was pretty fuckin skeptical about that, I mean Lucifer? Really? But Castiel seemed pretty sure, and he said other angels have died trying to protect these seals recently. The way he was talking makes them seem like some kind of supernatural lock on a door in hell, keeping the big bad trapped. I'm guessing it would be pretty bad news if he got out. So, we gotta learn more about these seals, and how to protect them.”

Harry leaned forward. “Who's Lilith? Why don't we just go after her, if she's the one behind this?”

“Believe me, I would. That bitch is on my shit-list. She's the demon who held my contract, and dragged me to hell. We tried to kill her before, but it didn't work out. She's too powerful. Usually demons have black eyes, but the really strong ones don't. Azazel had yellow eyes. Lilith has white eyes. She's a real piece of work, even as far as demons go. Last time we met she was possessing the body of a little girl. If we could kill her, I'd be all for it. But I don't know how to find her, let alone gank her if we ever do find out where she's hiding.” Dean sighed, slumping down in his chair and downing his now-cold coffee.

Harry hummed, looking thoughtful. “Maybe I could help with that. Demons can't possess witches and wizards, so there's not a lot of thought put into them. They're seen as a mostly muggle problem. That doesn't mean there isn't some literature about it. I'm sure my friend Hermione would help with research. We would need to find a way to summon Lilith, or track her. And then we have to destroy her. Sending her back to hell won't be enough if she's as powerful as you say. I bet Bill would help. He's a curse-breaker, so he knows a lot about rituals and dark creatures. Even if he's never seen a demon before, he's got a lot of containment tricks. And Charlie would probably help too. He's a dragon tamer. Not really the sphere of influence we need, but he's a good fighter. Ron would come too, but he just had a second kid with Hermione, and I wouldn't want to take him away from that. Ginny's out, since it's training season for the Harpies, and George has his shop to run. Besides, Molly would kill me if I took all of her children into some dangerous situation. I'll have to think about who else I could call on.”

Harry looked at the three hunters to find them gawking at him in shock.

“Are all your friends fighters then? And what, are they all related?” Bobby asked incredulously.

Harry looked confused for a moment, before answering slowly. “Well, yeah. Kind of. I mean, we fought a war together. I just have to figure out who is available, and whose skills would work best for this. And, well. The Weasleys kind of took me in when I was a kid. They're essentially family. I'll call Hermione later and explain everything so she can start searching for summoning spells for Lilith. It's a good thing she has a phone. Otherwise I'd have to visit them, or send an owl. That would take forever.”

Sam furrowed his brow. “What do you mean, 'send an owl'? Like a messenger bird? Is that how magic people communicate?”

Harry looked sheepish. “Er, yeah. I know, it sounds mad. Like I said earlier, most wizard families don't know much about technology. Our owls are quite smart though. Much smarter than your average bird. It has something to do with being raised around magic.”

Bobby cleared his throat. “Let's not get sidetracked. Sam, you can ask Harry all your questions later. Harry, you really think your people would know how to find and destroy such a powerful demon?”

Harry nodded. “I think so. Like I said, I'll call 'Mione and set her on the trail for us. She's a great researcher, and she has access to loads of books. I mean, this would stop demons from breaking the seals, right? Chop off the head and the body dies, so to speak?”

“I think so,” Bobby said. “I ain't ever seen anything on this scale before, but it stands to reason that the demons need a leader. At least with her gone the angels might step in and help us mop up the rest of the operation. And if not, we've dealt with your garden variety demons before.”

Harry smiled at Bobby before turning to the brothers. “Great! I'll just go call 'Mione now.” With that pronouncement, Harry stood and strode out of the kitchen, leaving the hunters to stare after him.

“Huh. Well, that was all unexpected,” said Dean, looking between Sam and Bobby.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who kudosed and commented on my story. Let me know what you think so far!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry has a chat with Hermione.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello readers! I'm so sorry it took me so long to get back to this story! I've been having a very busy year, and I lost motivation. I am back now, and I should be finishing this story within a reasonable amount of time. I've got a couple chapters written, and I'm working on more, so keep checking back every week or so. There will be at least five more chapters after this. This is my first work on AO3 and I am so happy that it's getting such a wonderful response!  
> Thank you all for your comments and kudos. I'm really bad about responding to comments, but I read and appreciate every one.

**Chapter Eleven**

Harry runs up Bobby’s creaky stairs to what he’s fast beginning to think of as ‘his’ room. He rummages around in his piles of things until he finds a cell phone buried under his clothes. Hermione took it upon herself after the war to integrate magic into small bits of technology. After a few unfortunate losses of various computers and phones, she found a way to boost the signal of phones, and add a bit of magic to the batteries, making them run much longer than they were designed to run. Computers were still a work in progress for her, but the phones were a success. She made sure Harry had one before he left for America.

Walking down the steps with the phone in hand, Harry makes his way to the front door, winding his way through the living room and glancing into the kitchen, where the three hunters are huddled around the table. Harry figures the brothers need some time to come to grips with his magic, and the fact that there are parts of the world that they know nothing about. He expects Sam to come to him with plenty of questions once the reality of what he’s told them has sunk in. Hopefully Dean will accept him now that he knows about his powers. Harry hasn’t had much interaction beyond one-night stands with muggles since leaving his relatives’ house, and he hopes Dean will react favorably toward his magic.

Stepping out the front door, Harry finds Hermione’s number in the cell in his hand and presses the green call button, and looking around the porch. There is a wooden bench with peeling paint sitting in the corner of the porch, situated in front of a window leading to the living room. Listening to the ringing in his ear, Harry slumps down on the bench and leans back, looking at the junk lot in front of him. Piles of cars make walls in the yard, creating alleys of dirty scrub grass and scattered car parts. The heat is oppressive, and Harry is glad for the shade of the porch. The ringing of the phone cuts out, and is replaced with the voice of one of Harry’s best friends.

 

“Harry?” Hermione’s voice pipes out from the phone. “It’s about time you called! Did you find the man you were looking for? Is he going to help you with this hunting business? I really don’t understand why you’re so interested in working with muggles. You know MACUSA would take you as an Auror in an instant. I know you wanted to get away from England, but think of all you could learn about the American Wizarding community!”

Harry laughs at the barrage of words from Hermione. “‘Mione, I told you. I don’t want to work with wizards. And I quite like these hunters. They remind me of us during the war. Fighting the good fight against impossible odds.” Sobering, Harry continues. “There’s more at stake here than we thought, ‘Mione. This ‘good fight’ of theirs has a good chance of spilling over into our world very soon. These hunters I’m staying with, they’re fighting demons. Apparently the demons are trying to start the honest-to-god apocalypse. I know magical creatures and witches and wizards can’t be possessed by demons, but something tells me the demons aren’t the live and let live types. If they can’t gain anything from us, they’ll do their best to kill us.”

Harry hears Hermione draw in a shocked breath when he tells her about the demons, but she lets him continue his explanation of the happenings in America. After he finishes telling her all he knows about Lillith and the seals, he pauses to let her soak in all the new information.

“So…” Harry began hesitantly, “Will you help us find a way to summon or track this Lillith? I’m going to talk to Charlie and Bill about possible weapons or spells to kill or contain her once we locate her, but if you find anything out on that front, it sounds like we could use all the help we can get.”

“Blimey Harry,” Hermione says drily, “you really don’t understand the meaning of a vacation do you? And to think I was hoping you would be  _ less _ of a trouble magnet outside of Britain.” Hermione heaves a sigh over the phone line. “Well, I suppose I can put my other projects on hold for a bit to do some research for you. It really was quite lucky that you decided to go there when you did. I do think the magical community could handle an influx of demons, but it would be so much more work. Best to stave off the apocalypse altogether if possible. Are you going to tell MACUSA about this?”

Harry grimaced and rolled his eyes. “No, I really don’t think I will tell MACUSA. At least, not until it’s over. You know how they are. Even more muggle-fearing than the Ministry. They’ll probably send in an obliviation squad and obliviate the whole sodding town. If the muggles don’t know about the apocalypse, it can’t happen, right? Never mind the fact that obliviating all the hunters would take out the only line of defense against the world being overrun by demons and the  _ literal devil _ . No, I was hoping to handle this quietly. If I must, I’ll use my influence with MACUSA, but that should be a last resort. You know my name doesn’t hold as much clout over here.” 

Hermione hummed thoughtfully. “You’re probably right about MACUSA, unfortunately. Who were you hoping to recruit for backup?” She asked. 

“I know you aren’t thinking of going at this alone,” She added with a dangerous edge to her voice. “You’ve learned better than to do that, haven’t you Harry?” 

Harry chuckles ruefully and rubs the back of his neck, gazing out over the junkyard. “Of course I want backup, ‘Mione. I’m not seventeen anymore. Like I said before, I was hoping to talk to Bill and Charlie. I want Ron to stay with you, and Gin has training. Maybe Nev if I can pry him from his greenhouse. Who else do you think I could get?”

“You should ask Lavender if she’s free. You know she’s done a lot of defense training since she got bit during the war. She’s really grown up, and as a werewolf she’s quite strong. I know George would love to come, but even if he can’t find someone to watch the shop for him, I’m sure he could come up with some nice toys for fighting demons. I know he was disappointed you didn’t bring along more of his inventions on your trip to America. As for research, I had someone in mind to help, but you won’t like it. He really would be a big help though, and he’s got a wonderful library.”

Harry groans. “Who is it? You know word of this can’t get out or MACUSA will come in wands blazing.”

“It’s Draco Malfoy,” Hermione says tentatively.  “But he’s become much less of a prat since our school days,” she rushes to add.  “You know he even visits Teddy and Andromeda sometimes with his mother. And I’ve worked with him a couple of times in the ministry on various research projects, and he’s kept the snide comments to acceptable levels. Also, he owes you a life debt for how you saved him in the final battle, and how you testified for him and his mother. So he might grouch about having to work on ‘muggle issues’ but he won’t gossip about this.”

 

Harry mutters into the phone for a bit, but eventually agrees that they really need all the help they can get at this point. 

“Fine. As long as it’s you working with him and not me. I can never help myself from making stupid snide comments at him. Will you ask the others if they’re willing to help? This phone is great, but only when I’m calling people who actually know what phones are. I’m especially worried about contacting Bill soon. Bill will need to start looking for any knowledge he can find about containing a demon. Also, I was hoping he might know with any certainty about the uses of goblin forged blades against various supernatural creatures, but especially demons.”

“Yes, I will be your messenger,” Hermione replies good-naturedly. “Really Harry, I don’t know what you would do without me. I’ll tell Ron all about this too, and don’t be surprised if you get a call from him later. I know he’ll want to be there helping. At least I’ve managed to teach him not to yell into the phone, so the chat shouldn’t be too painful. You just worry about those muggle hunters. Be careful, will you? I know you said they’re okay with your magic, but I shouldn’t have to remind you that sometimes people act irrational about things they don’t understand.”

Harry chuckles. “Thanks ‘Mione. You’re the best. I don’t know what I would do without you either. I’ll be expecting that call from Ron. And don’t worry about the muggles. I’m working on getting them to like me. One in particular.”

Harry hangs up over the sound of Hermione demanding to know who this particular muggle is, chuckling as he slips the phone into his pocket. He stands and stretches, enjoying the light breeze before slipping back into the house to check on the other three men.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos appreciated! Next chapter will be posted next weekend!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean confronts Bobby about his secret-keeping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a super short chapter! the next one is longer, and it will be posted next weekend, so don't worry! More is on the way.

**Chapter Twelve**

As soon as Harry leaves the house, Dean rounds on Bobby. “What the hell, man?” Dean hisses, aggrieved. “Why didn’t you tell us about all this magic shit before? It sounds like you knew about all this for years and it just what, never came up?”

Bobby takes his cap off and rubs the back of his head, looking around the room as if looking for inspiration. Then he leans back in his seat and looks at the two brothers. “You boys really think your daddy woulda taken all this well? A whole group of magic people with powers that he can’t see or control? I figured what he don’t know can’t hurt him. And it’s just been one thing after another since he died. I haven’t really had much time to bring it up.”

When Dean opens his mouth to argue, Bobby holds up his hand and continues. “I didn’t rightly know how you boys would take it, and I didn’t want to just dump it on you. When Harry showed up, I figured on getting to know him a little first, before telling you personal shit about him. His magic is his own business, and I warned him other hunters might not take it well if they heard about it.  That includes you two bozos.”

Dean rolls his eyes and sighs. “Fine. I see why you didn’t tell Dad about non-demon magic. But dude, you really think we would just kill some innocent because they have powers? Hell, Sammy has powers and he’s still alive and kicking isn’t he?”

Scoffing, Bobby responds, “Yeah, and look at how well that worked out. Didn’t your dad tell you that you might have to kill him? And I recall you being might suspicious when he was getting visions and shit.”

“Yeah but if I knew there were other ways to get powers aside from making some evil deal, I mighta been more calm about it!” Dean shouts.

Sam leans forward, speaking for the first time. “Dude, what’s done is done. We know now, so let’s talk about where we should go from here. I really think there’s bigger issues to think about here, what with the looming apocalypse and all.”

Dean scowls and looks away. “Fine,” he huffs. “But next time, you don’t keep big-ass supernatural secrets from us,” he adds, pointing at Bobby.

Bobby rolls his eyes at Dean. “Fine.”

Sam clears his throat. “So, are we going to trust Harry and his friends to help us with the apocalypse? You really think he can find Lillith? And even if he can, is it really a good idea to go looking for her again? We didn’t have much luck last time we found her.”

Dean looks irritated at this comment. “Well, yeah but we didn’t have a wizard on our side did we? And what other options do we have? I told you what Castiel said about the seals. I say, anything we can do to keep Lucifer locked up is a good thing.”

Bobby grunts. “Well, maybe we should start doing some research of our own. At least we can see if I got any books that reference these seals. And I’ll be talking to Harry about seeing if he has any good books we should be looking through. I bet the wizards have books I’ve never even heard of before.”

Dean groans. “Bobby, you can’t really expect me to research all day. You know how much I hate bookwork.”

Bobby glares at Dean, standing and heading for the library. “You bet your ass I expect you to research. This is so far beyond regular hunting. We got angels and demons and the literal devil to contend with. You can’t always just go shoot things, Dean.”  

The sound of books being shuffled around comes from the next room, and Dean shoots a dismayed look to Sam, who rolls his eyes and stands, following Bobby out of the room.

“Come on Dean,” Sam says in a faux-commiserating voice, clapping a hand on Dean’s shoulder as he passes. “Time to start another long day of research.”

Dean groans again, but grabs a refill of coffee and follows Sam out of the room, grumbling under his breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading my story! Let me know if you notice any errors or inconsistencies.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Dean have a chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! Life got very busy this past week, and I haven't had a chance to sit down at my computer until now.

**Chapter Thirteen**

Harry steps into the house and finds the three hunters standing around the library. Bobby is pulling books off the shelves and piling them into each of the brothers’ arms seemingly at random. 

Harry clears his throat. “Uh, Dean, can I talk to you for a bit? Outside, maybe?”

Dean, looking far more eager than he had a moment ago, dumps his armful of books on a side table and starts toward Harry, throwing a halfhearted “Sorry Bobby” over his shoulder. He pushes Harry back outside and follows him out. 

Harry steps back to the bench he just vacated and sinks back down. Dean sits next to him awkwardly, not quite looking him in the eye.

Harry looks at Dean, then looks back out at the yard. “So uh, sorry I didn’t tell you I was a wizard?” Harry glances at Dean for a moment before looking forward again, twisting his hands awkwardly. “Are you going to be okay working with me? I really do think I can help with your demon problem, but I get it if you don’t want me around anymore. Just, this is an issue that will end up affecting everyone if it’s not dealt with, right?”

Dean rubs his hands over his face and leans back on the bench, looking over at Harry.

“I get it. Not all hunters are cool with any sort of powers or differences. As long as you’re not evil or hurting any innocents, it’s fine. But dude, it was shitty to have to hear about it from a douchebag angel. You got any more secrets you need to get off your chest? If we’re working together I should probably know about anything that’s gonna be a surprise later.”

Harry thinks about Dean’s question for a moment. “Well,” Harry begins hesitantly. “It’s not really a secret about me, but there are things you should know about the people who might come help us. I talked to Hermione, and she said she would start research and ask around about who might be free and helpful.” Harry chews on a thumbnail, thinking about how to proceed. 

“There’s some things you should know about our potential help. First off, from Sirius’ journal it seems like werewolves are different in the wizarding world. I think the magical core lends some stability to various creatures and skill-sets. Bill will probably be coming, since he works with curse-breaking and wards, and he’s got enough battle skills to be of great help. He got mauled by a werewolf during the war. He isn’t a full werewolf, but he gets more energy during the full moon, and he’s had to deal with some anger issues since being scratched.”

Dean was fully facing Harry by the time he paused. “Okay, but he’s not a full werewolf? Casue there’s a pretty big difference between some anger issues and ripping hearts out.”

Harry cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his head self-consciously. “No, he’s not a full werewolf, but Lavender is. She’s a classmate of mine, and she got bit during the final battle. We have a potion that werewolves can take during the full moon to stay in control. They still transform, but they keep their own mind during the full moon. Hermione said she’s really learned a lot of defense spells, and she’ll be stronger as a were, so it would actually be helpful for us. I won’t have her come here if she’s going to be treated poorly though. She gets enough hate from the wizarding community.”

Dean considers this, before saying “I don’t know man. Me and Sammy have met werewolves before, and they have no control. Sam had to kill this girl, and it really fucked him up. Are they really in control if they have magic?”

Harry nods emphatically. “Yes. They really do have control. My godson’s father was a werewolf, and he was one of the kindest men I knew, along with being a war hero. The potions are getting better and better for werewolves, but even without that, if the wolf is contained somewhere without people, it’s fine. For most of the month, they are just like everyone else.”

Dean sighed. “I’ll have to talk to Sam and Bobby about that. I’m not saying no, and I see what you’re saying, but we’ve had bad interactions with werewolves before. I know Sam will want more information before meeting these people, at least.”

Harry slumps in his seat, looking more dejected. “Okay, I guess that makes sense. Just tell me if you’re not going to be able to handle it so I can warn Hermione.”

Dean nods, rubbing his hands together rand leaning forward. “Fair enough. I’ll have a talk with Sammy about it. I think it will be okay, it’s just a surprise.”

The two men sit quietly next to each other, looking out over the dusty yard. After a few minutes, the calm is interrupted by a shrill ringing coming from Harry’s pocket. 

Harry pulls his phone out and checks the screen. Seeing the call is from Hermione, he answers. 

“That was fast, ‘Mione. Did you have some more questions for me?”

Ron’s voice booms out of the phone, causing Harry to fumble the phone and almost drop it, then hold it nearly a foot from his ear. “What the bloody hell, mate?” Ron yells from the phone. “You leave for a couple of weeks and you’re getting yourself involved in the bloody apocalypse? Without me??”

“Fuck, Ron, there’s no need to yell, mate! I know we showed you how to use the phone before. You’re going to deafen me.” Harry chides, still holding the phone at a wary distance from his ear.

“Sorry,” Ron says sheepishly, speaking at a more reasonable volume. “You really got yourself involved in the apocalypse though?” Ron asks, somewhat incredulously.

Dean is staring at Harry and the phone in his hand with some degree of horror. “Who the fuck doesn’t know how to use a phone? I think Sam and Bobby could hear that from inside.”

Harry rolls his eyes, pulling the phone away from his mouth. “I did tell you some wizards were bad with technology. Ron’s from a pureblood family, so he didn’t have much interaction with anything muggle until he met me and Hermione. Hermione is muggleborn, and she’s still teaching him.”

“Who are you talking to?” Ron’s voice pipes from the phone. “Is it that muggle that Mione said you wanted to like you?”

Harry’s cheeks reddened, and he hissed into the phone “‘That muggle’ can hear you Ron, he’s sitting right here!”

Dean is looking on with interest. “No no, keep talking. Tell me more about how Harry wants me to like him,” Dean calls at the phone, smirking at Harry.

Ron sputters at the other end of the line for a minute. “Sorry, Harry. You know I’m still getting used to these things. Can he really hear everything I’m saying?”

Harry groans, rolling his head back to stare at the ceiling. “Yes, he really can Ron. Now did you just call to berate me or was there something you needed?”

“Was there- was there something  **I** needed? I’m not the one jumping into a fight to stop the literal apocalypse! How come this is the first I’m hearing about this? You know I’ll come help if you need me!”

Harry grinned, “Yeah mate. I know you would come help me. But you have two kids to worry about, and Hugo is still so young. I wouldn’t let you miss that! ‘Mione would murder the both of us if I pulled you away to fight now.” 

Growing sober, Harry continued. “Yeah, it’s really the apocalypse. Like, the devil and all. I know wizards and witches don’t much care about the whole christian evil and all that, but it sounds like it could get pretty bad. Best to stop it now than let it get too out of hand. Hermione said she would do some research about it for me, and ask around about who might be interested in helping.”

Ron hums thoughtfully. “Yeah, she probably would kill us if I went running off to America. Why don’t you just call MACUSA? I mean, it’s not even your own country!”

“Nah, MACUSA is a last resort. You know how they are. They have more forms and secrecy than our Ministry, and that is saying something! They would be more likely to come in and obliviate everyone and call it good. If no one remembers what’s happening, it’s not a problem anymore, right?”

“Yeah, I spose you’re right about that,” Ron responds. “They are pretty scared of being found out by the muggles over there. But if it gets too bad there, you know they’ll want to get involved anyway.”

“Yeah,” Harry sighs. “I just hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“Well, if you really need help, I’m coming over, baby or no,” Ron states. 

“In the meantime, I’ll help Mione find you some help. She said Lavender might be good, and Nev. I know he doesn’t have a lot going on at his greenhouse right now, so he will probably come. Don’t be surprised if George shows up too. I know he’s been wanting a break from the shop for a while, and Angelina could watch it for him for a bit. I know Bill will want in, and probably Charlie too, if you can pull him from his dragons.”

Harry can see Dean mouth ‘dragons’ out of the corner of his eye, an incredulous look on his face.

“Hey Ron, thanks for the help. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I just found out this morning, so there wasn’t much time. I have to go now, but I’ll talk to you later. I’m sure Hermione will fill you in on everything I told her.”

“Yeah yeah, I see how it is,” Ron chuckles. “You go talk to your interesting muggles. I’ll get started on finding you some help.”

“Thanks mate. Talk to you later,” Harry says, closing the phone and letting his hand fall to his lap.

Harry peeks over at Dean and sees him studying him with mischief in his eyes. “So, you want me to like you, huh?”

Harry chuckles weakly. “Well, yeah. I mean, I thought that was obvious. I like you, Dean. You’re fun and interesting, and you really care about what you do,” Harry says. “And it doesn’t hurt that you’re gorgeous,” he adds, giving Dean an obvious once-over.

Dean smirks, but Harry can see the tips of his ears turn a little red. “You aren’t so bad yourself, Harry.” Dean says. “But now is maybe not the time to go find a bed.” Dean leans over so his mouth is inches from Harry’s ear, continuing in a whisper, “once this is dealt with, we are going to get a nice hotel room far away from nosy brothers, and I am going to show you how interesting I can be.”

Harry shivers, swaying toward Dean. Dean brushes his lips across Harry’s cheek before straightening up and standing. He looks down at Harry.

“Now, little wizard, are you going to come inside and tell us more about what you can do? Maybe help us translate some of these boring latin books Bobby keeps trying to make me read?”

Harry stares up at Dean, a smile hovering on his lips. “I suppose I must. But don’t think I’ll forget your promise when this is all over.” 

Harry stands, and he and Dean step back into the house. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I love all of your comments! Thanks for reading, and let me know if you find any inconsistencies. I haven't had a beta these last few chapters, so there may be a few more mistakes than before.


End file.
